


The Lonely Planet

by linumlea



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Fem!Bifur, Fem!Bofur - Freeform, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, because I needed more ladies in here, fem!Bombur, soft sci-fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4002409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linumlea/pseuds/linumlea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Home was taken away from the inhabitants of Erebor. The wandering king sets forth on a journey with his most trusted Company and someone who never expected to take up adventuring in his life.</p><p>Inspired by: <a href="http://viviena.tumblr.com/post/109233915628/this-is-it-master-baggins-the-lonely-planet">viviena.tumblr.com</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Through the door, inside

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this fic is one giant experiment slash exercise slash challenge. I intend to make every chapter at least 5k word long and post once every week.  
> As I am no expert, all the science side will be pretty soft, with maybe a few exceptions.  
> I know where I want to go with this fic, but I don't quite know what will happen along the way, so expect the unexpected.  
> There will be some book canon and some movies' canon, so it's a mess.  
> I have like a half of the next chapter written, so I hope to post it in a few days.  
> I will be extremely happy to receive suggestions, criticism or basically anything.

In the darkness, there lurks the life. Life quite ancient, though the ones alive are young. "How beautiful," one may sigh, when presented with the light of all the lives spread across the vast of the universe. Each alive having a different hue, all combined creating a masterpiece canvas.

Some colours match each other better than some, as every child is taught, and it was the very same with the lights the living shone with. Some people are just meant to be, creating art as they join in their vows, some are the art themselves.

 

As the travellers approach the Hobbiton, the first thing they notice without fail is how green the planet actually is. Green and blue and white with clouds, just a touch of brown here and there. A pleasant sight for eyes sore from the constant darkness that accompanies those who travel in space.

The second thing they notice upon arrival is how nice and hospitable the incredibly small inhabitants are, welcoming everyone with a smile and cheerful greeting. Their, well, lack of height was due to ages of living on the planet of great mass and strong gravity. In the end travellers leave, warmed both by the tender climate and everyone's pleasant demeanour, failing to see smiles faltering as soon as no once could notice. Not everything was well on Hobbiton.

The third thing is unique architecture - not many would like to live in holes in the ground, no matter how comfortable they would be. But none of the visitors complain, because trying out a new thing from time to time is nothing but good, and hobbits do their very best to make everyone's stay as enjoyable as possible.

There is however one house we should focus our attention on. It is in fact the house of Bilbo Baggins, an exemplary hobbit from the curls on his head to the curls on his toes. Adventure awaits him and we shall follow him in it, in the ups and downs of not so ordinary life.

 

Bilbo was just outside, when from within his home came the sound of incoming call. He rushed to open the heavy door, crying 'Hold the call! Hold the call!', hoping that the voice controlled device would hear him. Upon finally stepping through the door, he was greeted by the sight of somehow familiar face on the home-control monitor. He set down his bag and turned on the vision on the device. "Yes, how may I help you?", he asked politely, trying to place person's face in his memory.

"Bilbo Baggins, do you not recognize an old friend?", a man with a white beard sounded humorously offended.

Bilbo's eyes widened and he smiled cheerfully, "Gandalf! Why, such a nice surprise! I haven't heard from you in years."

Gandalf chuckled, "I'm sorry, my dear Bilbo, business has kept me away. Now however I do wish to have a bit of a talk with you. Say, do you have time tomorrow, at noon perhaps?"

Bilbo quickly agreed, discarding the hollow feeling of fright in his stomach. Meeting an old friend surely was worth more than a meal that those few hours of work would have provided, even if his stomach will protest.

"Excellent! Meet me at the Golden Ear. See you tomorrow then."

Bilbo's bright smile faltered as soon as the monitor went blank. He will have to look for some additional job the next week, if he wants to have something to eat. He might have to call in some favours he was saving for a rainy day in order to find something, _anything_ , the jobs being extremely scarce. He shook his head - if only there was something else to support the economy of Hobbiton, which at the time relied on export of crops and tourism.

 

Bilbo reluctantly entered the fancy restaurant, already regretting his decision. He wondered if the money he had on him would be enough to buy a glass of water there.

He peered around, searching for Gandalf. All the glass and fake crystal caused the place to look terribly bright, making it difficult to focus. His anxiousness was enough to draw attention of the maitre d'hotel, who started eyeing him with cautiousness. Luckily, the very moment headwaiter decided to step in, Bilbo was saved by Gandalf waving at him from one of the tables. He rushed forward, apologizing for making his old friend wait.

"Don't mention that, you weren't late," Gandalf assured him. They settled down on the opposite sides of the table and thanked the waiter, who handed them the menus.

Bilbo took a deep breath and opened the card. Just as he expected, the prices were way too much for his empty pockets. He could maybe ask for an appetizer and then just say he wasn't that hungry...

Perhaps Gandalf saw the sudden paleness of his face and guessed the reason. "Ah, Bilbo, today's meal is on me, what do you say?", he offered suddenly.

"Oh, no, I couldn't..."

"I insist, my friend," Gandalf already nodded at the waiter. "I have some dishes I could recommend to you here, I will order those if you don't mind?"

Bilbo shook his head, "Of course not, go right ahead."

After the order was placed and waiter disappeared, Gandalf settled his joined hands at the edge of the table.

"My dear Bilbo, I have an offer I think you might be interested in. There is an adventure waiting to happen and I was hoping to lure you into it."

"Adventure?", Bilbo asked incredulously. He pondered at the thought for a moment and then vigorously shook his head. "Very kind of you to come to me, Gandalf, but I'm afraid I'm not one suited for adventures."

"Not suited for adventures? Nonsense! I remember you as a lad, listening intently to every story."

Bilbo hanged his head with a melancholic smile, "Quite a time passed since then, don't you think?"

Gandalf regarded him from across the table, a heavy frown visible on his features. "Has that much changed?", he asked softly, question not quite directed at Bilbo. Gandalf remained silent for a while, lost in his thoughts, until their dishes were served. He perked up then, smiling again. "Perhaps I will be able to convince you still. At least let me tell you more about the whole affair."

Bilbo nodded with a smile. Nothing bad will come out of just listening, will it?

And so Gandalf told him: that there is a certain party wishing to set out to the remote region of the Medio Galaxy in order to acquire something of great value to them, that they are in need of secrecy, that they look for the services of a trusted cryptanalyst (Bilbo mentally scolded himself, when he subconciously raised his head at the statement - it was quite a time since he worked in his learned profession, having to settle for other jobs, quite petty in comparison, in order to make ends meet) and finally that they are offering a satisfactory remuneration (Bilbo tried very hard to conceal his interest and in the end he just nodded with his lips pursed). Throughout his whole monologue, Gandalf watched him intently.

"You said you would tell me more, but I don't feel I have learned anything at all. Some details surely wouldn't kill you?", he tried brushing off Gandalf's inquiring look with a smile.

Gandalf shrugged, "I was told no to reveal too much information, unless the candidate was willing."

"Oh. It seems I won't know much more then."

"Are you sure?", Gandalf leaned forward, his elbows on the table and chin rested on his knuckles. "It might have been quite a time since we last met, but I do pride myself in the ability to tell, although vaguely, what is on one's mind. If I am to be honest, Bilbo, I think you are in fact interested in my offer."

"Then you are wrong, my friend," Bilbo said, still smiling, but with decisiveness in his voice.

Gandalf inclined his head, seemingly defeated. "If that is it, so be it. I must say, I was hoping you will in fact agree."

"Sorry to be a disappointment."

"Yes," Gandalf agreed and mutter under his breath, "quite a disappointment indeed."

He sighed and said, this time out loud, "I do have one more thing I would like to ask you. The aforementioned party is in need of a place to stay for a night. All the secrecy and whatnots, they are looking for someone to house them, as discretely as possible."

"I'm not sure I know of such a place-"

"I was thinking about your home, actually. Of course, they will cover all the costs," Gandalf looked at him expectantly, but Bilbo was quite lost at words.

"I-I don't think... I mean... How many people would that be? And, most importantly, my house can't possibly house anyone much taller than a hobbit, at least not comfortably."

"Worry not, none of them is much taller. As for the number, I would guess around thirteen."

"Thirteen?", Bilbo asked weakly. Thirteen people! His parents' house was big (a source of many worries and hair pulling for poor Bilbo), but thirteen...

"I suppose it would be possible, but most of them would have to sleep on the floor."

Gandalf smiled cheerfully, "It won't be a problem, I'm sure."

 

Bilbo fell on his favourite armchair, eventually slightly sliding off as he relaxed. Gandalf kindly offered to drive him home, reckless driver that he was, so Bilbo was spared having to deal with the public transport. He replayed the whole meeting in his mind, fussing over whether his decision was right or not. Before he was able to decide he caught the glimpse of the clock. He was almost late for work and he was still in the house! There was no way he was going to be on time, but at least he could try, so he ran out of his house. He pondered and thought and fussed all the time, for rest of the afternoon. He might have appeared to be sure of his decision when he talked to Gandalf, but now he had serious doubts. Who knows, maybe he would be able to live comfortably for some time, if the pay was good? Maybe he wouldn't even have to sell his parents' house as he was reluctantly planning to do. One person wasn't enough to support such a big house, despite Bilbo's most earnest efforts. Sometimes he really wondered what came to his parents' heads to throw an inherited fortune in the mud by building such an unnecessary house.

But he made his decision there, nothing to do about it now. He will house thirteen of Gandalf's acquaintances in his house and he will pleasantly bid them goodbye the next morning, and perhaps spend the rest of his life bickering with himself over his indecisiveness.

As the evening approached, the hobbit stopped sulking and made an effort to think rationally. For sure, good pay was quite an incentive, but on the other side - he would have to go to the over side of the galaxy, maybe die in the process. That last thought was a result of his deduction, that is the great secrecy and big money involved suggested some government issues. He was sure that being dragged into affairs like that never came out good, for anyone. And they especially won't come out good for him, his fate usually being a wretched one.

With those thoughts in his mind, he fell asleep.

 

Almost two weeks have passed and Bilbo slowly started to forget that Gandalf was supposed to call him with further information. So when his friend appeared on the monitor once again, he actually needed a moment to remember what it was all about.

"Gandalf, how may help you this lovely evening?", he asked.

"You may help by housing thirteen of my friends on the night after tomorrow," Gandalf said with quite a playful smile.

Bilbo blinked. 'Housing? Thirteen? What... Oh,' he thought as it was coming back to him. 'That's right, I agreed to do it.'

"Very well," he said out loud. "Can you ask them to come after seven in the evening? I should be back from work then. It wouldn't be any good if they came knocking to an empty house."

Gandalf agreed with him and so they said their goodbyes. It was only when the call ended, that Bilbo remembered he was supposed to ask if the travellers were going to eat at his house. It was quite late already, so Bilbo opted to call Gandalf the next day. As it usually is in situations like this, Gandalf was unreachable the first time he called in the morning, the second time in the evening and finally the third time on the morning of the fateful day. He couldn't wait any longer to make necessary purchases, so with a sigh of defeat he reached to some of his meager savings. He could always freeze some things and the promised gratification for housing them a night should cover the rest.

 

Two people, one with hair as white as snow, and the other with no hair at his scalp at all but with a blue beard instead, inadvertently and obliviously were creating quite a stir as they walked down the street. Heads were turning after them, especially at the menacing stance the bald man adapted. People of Hobbiton, quiet and peaceful folk, were unfamiliar to such outright display of threat.

"What is it with hobbits?", Balin muttered as they strolled through the streets..

"What do you mean?", Dwalin asked.

"They smile brightly when you look straight at them, but as soon as you turn away the smiles disappear. They look worried and restless."

"Aren't you reading too much into that?"

"I know what I am talking about. There is something wrong with those people."

They fell into silence and Dwalin started to pay more attention. Being a trained security guard, he soon started noticing little things as well - some stir here, slightly raised or hushed voice there, a nervous movement, sudden twitch to a face, smile not quick enough. All in all picture seemed to be idyllic, but once you started to look into details it started to gape and tear at the edges.

Dwalin harrumphed, not at all eager to acknowledge that his brother was right, even if the evidence was right there. But before he was able to say anything to Balin, they arrived. He scrutinized the whole building, which appeared to grow right in the earth.

"Is this the place?", he asked, a bit incredulously perhaps. After all, you do not see such things often - a low fence and behind not quite kept garden, small path paved with colourful pebbles (now a great deal of them missing) leading to big round green door. Some time ago the door must have looked luxurious, but now there were patches of raw wood where paint fell off, and the doorknob was in dire need of polishing or maybe even replacing. Place looked poorly kept, but there were some proof of attempted repairs - one window painted in green much brighter than the rest, a board of raw wood on the bench and the old board laying around next to it on the  lawn. It seemed like the person owning the place struggled to keep everything a hair-width from falling apart.

Brothers inspected the house thoroughly. Finally Dwalin shrugged, gripped his luggage and went through the gate. There was no sign of a bell or anything like that, so he banged on the door instead.  After some ruckus inside, someone shouted something indistinctly, entirely muffled by the wood, and soon the door opened, revealing the person inside.

 

Bilbo wasn't really prepared to a view of menacingly tall and bulky man right in front of his house - he unconsciously took a step back, which the man must have taken as an invitation. He stepped right inside and bowed.

"Dwalin at your service," he said. Surprised, Bilbo mumbled incoherently, but soon regained his voice as another person stepped in, this time an older man with snow-white beard who asked, not unkindly, "Master Bilbo Baggins? We come from the recommendation of Gandalf. Balin at your service."

"Ah, and I'm at yours! Please, do come inside," Bilbo rushed to take the overcoats of his guests, urging them to follow him into the corridor. So those were Gandalf's acquaintances.

At some point he glanced outside the window and had to take a step back. There were people standing by his fence, looking entirely befuddled, no doubt by the two men who now were roaming inside his house. He couldn't help thinking that whatever the principle of his guests' mission was, they definitely failed at keeping their journey and locations discreet.

"Would you like some tea? I have prepared some dishes and laid them out, please help yourself to them. Just feel at home, really," he said upon finding the guests in the dining room. Balin nodded and was about to say something when there was yet another knock on the door. Bilbo rushed back.

"Yes, hello," he greeted two people standing outside. They bowed and greeted him too.

"Fili," said the blond.

"Kili," said brunet.

"Is this the place?", they asked.

"I suppose, yes," Bilbo was a bit flummoxed. Gandalf did say he was to expect thirteen people, but he said not a word of all of them being Ereborians! He didn't know what he expected, but once he remembered there is very few races of height similar to hobbits the choice was quite limited. He found himself wondering if all of them will be Ereborian. Bilbo heard some things about that race, just rumours, but at least a some of them must have been true. People said their home was lost and they had to find shelter on other worlds. Bilbo had a growing suspicion that their journey must have something to do with that.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost missed another newcomers coming inside. They said their names was Oin, Gloin, Dori, Nori and Ori. They came one after another, bowing their heads, and Bilbo could only urge them to the dining room and tell them to help themselves. He could hear loud cheers the newcomers were greeted with, but there was yet another knock.

Bilbo hoped that Gandalf would make an appearance and so his wishes were granted! Outside stood his old friend, entirely too tall for a hobbit-sized door and behind stood another three Ereborians - this time three ladies, though with beards as impressive as the men.

"Bilbo, my friend, allow me to introduce - Bofur, Bifur and Bombur."

"At your service," two of the ladies greeted him pleasantly, one only bowed, and they came inside. Bilbo couldn't help but notice that the one that kept silent had something in her forehead. He did his best not to stare, he wouldn't want his guest to feel distressed.

"Has everyone arrived?", Gandalf asked. Bilbo started counting in his mind, but it took him a while to take account of all the people.

"Ah, I do believe we are one person short," he stated finally. Gandalf only absent-mindedly nodded.

 

They found all the guests seated in the dining room, with most of the food already gone. Quite an accomplishment, when one takes into consideration the fact that Bilbo made enough for a small army. But perhaps that was what his guests were - a small, yet dangerous company.

Everyone seemed to be in good moods, laughing, smiling and eating their fill. They made Bilbo sit with them and so he listened to their conversation. They talked a lot, about many things he did not understand at all. After all, Bilbo had little knowledge about coordinates, mechanics of spaceships or even making jewellery and those were the topics coming back most often. Gloin lured his into the talk about his wife and son, whom he couldn't stop talking about until Bilbo was saved by Bofur and Bombur. Bombur was very complimentary of Bilbo's cooking and asked about a few dishes. Somehow Bilbo found himself revealing a few of his cooking secrets, but the lot of Ereborians seemed to have such an effect on him. They were simply irresistible, as it was nearly impossible not to like them.

He spotted Bifur and Bofur exchanging some sort of signs using their hands.

"It's our secret sign language," Nori explained upon catching Bilbo staring. He motioned for Bofur to come over and eventually Ori also joined them.

"We developed the sign language to communicate in the mines," Ori said. He seemed to be a bit shy, but tried his best to participate in conversations.

"Are you miners then?", Bilbo asked, puzzled. He didn't know women could do such jobs.

Bofur scratched his head. "We were, but it was long ago. We work mostly as mechanics now, me and Bifur. Bombur usually cooks."

"What about you, Master Nori?", Bilbo wanted to know. For some reason Nori refused to answer and instead drew all the others in the conversation.

 

Soon almost every dish was gone and before Bilbo could do as much as exclaim in protest, his Ereborian guests started cleaning up, breaking into song in the process. As they were coming to what seemed to be the last verse, a loud knock sounded in the hall. They all stopped in their tracks.

"Here he comes," Gandalf muttered in the sudden silence and got up, alongside with Bilbo, to welcome who seemed to be the last guest.

Bilbo made his way to the door first and so he opened it, Gandalf following right behind him.

Outside of Bilbo's door stood a man a head taller than Bilbo. He glanced at the hobbit in front of him, but settled his gaze at Gandalf instead.

"Gandalf," the Ereborian said with a cheer in his voice, even if a bit sarcastic. "How good to finally see you. Though, I must say, you must have given me wrong coordinates. I got lost, twice, and ended up navigating manually."

"My coordinates wrong? Wrong? That can't be!", Gandalf's voice was full of incredulity. "But you are here at last, so let me introduce you to your host, Bilbo Baggins. Bilbo, this is Thorin Oakenshield."

Bilbo inclined his head, "Pleasure."

The newcomer raised his eyebrows.

"So this is our host. But, Gandalf, isn't he the one you deemed suited for our mission? He looks more like a farmer to me. No offence," Thorin cast him a scornful look. Bilbo could only blink in surprise. What was wrong with that person? To say such things in the house of his host, in his presence, it could only be a sign of incredibly ill manners. He suddenly felt a wave of courage taking a hold of him.

"None taken. My father was a farmer and he, as well as my mother, worked hard so that I wouldn't have to be one. They were saving each credit they could spare, sometimes starving themselves, so that I could have a better life. If you insist on using what in my mind is a synonym to 'hardworking' as an insult, so be it. Be warned though, it won't work as an offence on me," Bilbo said coldly, clearly having none of this. If Thorin wasn't one of Gandalf's acquaintances, he would have kicked him out of the door that very moment.

In the stunned silence that followed this exchange, the rest of the company started to shuffle their feet nervously, two young ones especially - Fili and Kili seemed to be in great distress. Finally Gandalf, who looked oddly pleased with himself, motioned for everyone to get back in the dining room.

"May I have your coat?", Bilbo asked Thorin, as indifferently as he could. He decided he had enough of being impolite for the night and will be well-mannered for two if necessary. To his well hidden joy, Thorin seemed to be at least a bit ashamed and thanked him quietly as he handed him the overcoat. Upon stepping in the room where the rest of the guests gathered he even asked, quite pleasantly at that, if there was something for dinner. Bilbo wouldn't be himself if he let anyone in his house go around hungry, so he gathered what he could from his plundered kitchen and placed it in front of his guest, perhaps a bit too loud. Just to make a point, really.

 

For this or other reasons, the rest of Ereborians sobered and quieted down. They were now murmuring softly to each other. It was like Thorin cast some kind of spell on them - they were more serious and stern. Finally everyone settled down around the room, most of them taking out their pipes. An ancient tradition of smoking seemed to rest well among those people, even the ladies, and somehow Bilbo didn't mind the smoke and the smell it would leave. Most of the lights were half-lit, so they sat quietly in the dimness of the room. He didn't know who started singing, but soon the verses of the song were reverberating through the rooms and halls, rhythm kept steady by low voices, each note settling in the dust of the corners and the wood of the doors. Words were flowing slowly, like caravans travelling to take the ashes of the dead to places souls could rest. That was what the song was about - many dead, losing life in fire, but mostly it was about home. Bilbo could tell they all missed the place that their home was at, however far it may be.

The song has long died down, but there was no one willing to break the silence. Bilbo stood up, as quietly as he could, intending to turn on more lights, but he stopped in his tracks when Thorin looked directly at him. There was something indescribable in his gaze, longing and sadness that rarely was allowed to emerge from the depths and be seen.

"There is no need for more lights, I believe," Thorin claimed suddenly. Bilbo couldn't help but think that the confounded, rude man could not only amazingly sing, but also read minds. He agreed quickly and quite nervously and settled down in the corner, not wanting to get in anyone's way.

"Well, I suppose it's high time to talk business," Gandalf put down his pipe and started to pat random parts of his body, muttering to himself. Luckily, it didn't take him long to find what he was looking for - and it was, in fact, an intricate key. Instead of the usual blade, on the bow there were delicate and thin rings, sometimes with a fine geometrical shape - an orb, a cube or a diamond, or even more elaborate figures. Most of the company glanced at the piece of iron with an obvious lack of interest, but Thorin and Balin were, to say the least, surprised.

"Where have you gotten that, Gandalf?", Balin asked and reached with his arm for the key to inspect it closely. Thorin got up to stand behind the older man.

Gandalf picked up his pipe once again and puffed it a few times before answering.

"It was given to me by your father, Thorin."

Thorin's head shot up straight. "My father?", he repeated, stunned. "How could this be? We all thought him dead. He went missing years ago and we never heard a word back from him."

"I met him in his journey," Gandalf explained. "I'm afraid he was at his deathbed at the time. He has given me two things - one is the key you're holding and the other one is a part of a code."

"A code?", Kili chimed in. "What for?"

"Defence system," Thorin answered instead of Gandalf. With his brow furrowed he started pacing the room, clearly disturbed.

"And the key?", Fili inquired.

"It grants access to the orbital defence control chamber, lad," Balin explained. "Two vital things needed to even get anywhere near the Erebor."

"We weren't even hoping to get a hold of those. I'm surprised, though," Thorin remarked, not stopping in his movement for even a moment. "That my father gave those up so easily to you, even if he was dying at the time."

"I never said it was easy," Gandalf replied. "I had to use a handful of arguments. One of which was the honour it would grant to your name - the reclaim of the home of your people."

Thorin scoffed, but soon he appeared to be immensely tired all over again. "So this is where you got the code from - you told me about it before, but why did you keep silent that it was my father who gave it to you?"

"Part of the code, mind you. I had my reasons to keep silent, never mind you that though."

"Part of the code," Thorin repeated once again. "Yes. And thus, we need the cryptanalyst," he gazed quite thoughtlessly at Bilbo, who suddenly found himself in the centre of attention of everyone in the room. He squirmed nervously.

"That cryptanalyst is not in need of adventure though, I'm afraid. Aren't you, Bilbo?", Gandalf offered.

"I-I'm not, you are right. I'm not in the need of adventure, thank you."

"Shame," Bofur claimed. "Would be nice to have you onboard."

Most of Bilbo's guests agreed, nodding or exclaiming their approval. He blushed a bit, surprised he managed to find friends so quickly among them. The doubts he started having after first talking about the whole affair with Gandalf now were coming back in full force.

"I suppose we will worry about the rest of the code when, or rather if, we arrive at Erebor, then," Thorin concluded. He got up, "We must wake early tomorrow, since we depart at six, so I suggest we make our beds and retire."

Bilbo rose from his seat as well. Soon all of his guests laid down, some on the floors, some on the sofas and armchairs. Thorin and Gandalf, alongside with Oin and Balin, got their own bedrooms.

 

Finally Bilbo cautiously closed the door to his own bedroom. He wasn't used to anyone sleeping in his house and he was sure he won't be able to fall asleep, not to mention all the excitement the day brought upon him. The midnight sounded soon however, and the time found him sound asleep, buried nose-deep in the bedding. In his dreams, the song of lost home followed him, sang in deep voice.


	2. ... and through the door, out!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo learns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is posted later than I hoped... One day I finally got an idea for the whole plot and had to rewrite certain parts. I'm not sure, but it might turn angsty at some point? I hope I will manage writing angst...  
> One thing you ought to know - I just want to say, that when I saw the comments and the kudos I had an emotional breakdown in front of the laptop. Such a positive feedback for something so "mbleh". It boosted my confidence and the will to write high up to the sky, so I thank you :)  
> Anyway, hope you will enjoy!

When Bilbo woke up early in the morning, the silence outside of the door to his bedroom was unexpectedly overwhelming. Reluctantly he got up and walked out into the undisturbed stillness filling every corner. He walked around the corridors for a few minutes, glancing inside rooms and looking at the flooring and the tables that shined with cleanliness. His visitors must have ended up cleaning up the mess they managed to make, even folded the blankets and, judging from wet stains near the flowerpots, tried to water the plants.

He stood abruptly upon reaching the dining room. He still could smell some of the smoke from their pipes, weird trinkets they were and a weird addiction. He startled when the ancient clock hanging on the wall in the dining room began to quietly strike the fifth hour. He gazed at the clock's face thoughtlessly - he didn't remember ever being up at such an hour.

When Bilbo heard a noise from the corridor leading to the front door, it took him a minute to understand that someone was knocking on his door, even though it was so very early in the morning. He hurried to the entrance, not sure what was is that he expected to see outside.

Knocking repeated, more insistent this time and Bilbo abruptly opened the door, muttering under his breath about visitors without clocks, already annoyed.

"Gandalf!", he exclaimed in surprise, as it was his old friend standing outside.

"Good morning," said Gandalf and eyed Bilbo up from his toes to his head. "Why aren't you dressed yet? And where are your bags?"

"Dressed? Bags? What do you mean, why should I have bags?"

Gandalf tilted his head. "Why, it's because the Company leaves in less than an hour and you should be packed and ready to get about."

"The Company...", Bilbo repeated again after Gandalf, with incredulity and finally anger in his voice. "What should I care that they are leaving? It's not like I'm going with them."

Gandalf straightened to his full height and held his head up high. Bilbo suddenly felt really small and subconsciously cowered, almost giving in to the urge of hiding behind the door.

"Of course you are!", Gandalf cried in great voice. "Bilbo Baggins, you are going with them if that's the last thing I do! Fetch your pants and your coat, we are leaving in five minutes!"

Bilbo didn't quite remember how, but suddenly he was sitting in Gandalf's car, in mismatched outfit and a bag of clothes and some necessities in his laps, with Gandalf driving well over the speed limit. Bilbo started wondering how in the world did Gandalf get his hands on the car without automatic control, but before he was able to come to any sort of conclusion reality caught up with him and he started fearing for his life - Gandalf drove off the road and they were currently speeding over the fields, the ears of some grain merging into smudge outside the window. If the car was borrowed from some company on Hobbiton, he shouldn't have been able to that, as the cars were designed to only work on the roads. They were all supposed to be electromagnetic, but it seemed Gandalf had his own sources for things.

After what felt like eternity for Bilbo (it was in fact only about forty minutes) they arrived at the port. Gandalf almost pushed Bilbo out from the car and started pulling him through the hall in a very undignified manner. Bilbo, being not much more than half of Gandalf's height, had no possibility of even a smallest attempt at resisting.

"Ah! They are leaving in four minutes! You must hurry, go through that gate and run!", Gandalf urged him.

"Are you not coming?", Bilbo managed to ask.

"Ereborian ships are not suited for tall people. Worry not, I will contact you soon. Now go!"

And Bilbo ran. Years later, he still wasn't sure what made him run so fast - it couldn't possibly be just because of Gandalf's nagging, there was something else. Maybe he did feel a need for adventure after all and that was what pushed him further, step after step, even many days after that. He made his choice that day, whether it was good or bad, he was never able to decide.

Bilbo almost cried out in relief when he saw that they didn't yet remove the stairs to the board and didn't close the hatch. He ran up the stairs, collapsing to his knees when he reached the inside of the ship. Someone squatted next to him. He saw bright smile, brown eyes and ruffled brown hair, before he discarded his backpack and fell on his back in the middle of the corridor.

"You alright?", Bofur asked cheerfully.

"I think I'm going to die, but outside of that I think I'm alright," Bilbo said, each word followed by a gasp. Bofur let him lie down for a minute or two longer, before she got up and held out her hand to help him up. Once Bilbo was on his feet again he felt quite wobbly, but surely it was going to pass. Bofur energetically shook his hand.

"Good to have you onboard, master Baggins. Welcome on Thysbeus."

 

"The Lonely Planet, they call it, among many other names. Situated near the edge of the Medio Galaxy, in the system remote from all the others, Erebor orbits a young star of mass slightly greater than the Sun of Old Home, or so one could conclude from the records left of the Earth, for the star of the ancient Solar System no longer exists, nor do all the planets once surrounding it. The old galaxy that gave life to humans was left behind after the star began to oppress the life it once supported, and space travellers spread over the void speckled with light of other worlds, reaching for unknown, choosing hope of life over the certainty of death in their indigenous territory. Human descendants came a long way and travelled far from their First Home, spreading the beams of life on many planets that centuries ago were thought absolutely uninhabitable. All this thanks to the greatness of science and stubbornness of human nature.

The Erebor is a planet of stone and metal, similarly to Earth, and it bears mass superior to the mass of Old Home. The first humans that came to live on the surface of the Lonely Planet at first suffered from the effects of larger gravity and it took many generations until the now known image of Ereborian inhabitant was formed. Due to their similarity to the description of mythological creatures existing in records of Old Home, they are commonly called "dwarrows", but gods forbid in their close presence - Ereborians heatedly hate the name they were given and all of them are ready to bash in the face of the offender even before the opprobrious word properly leaves the mouth of a person stupid enough to say it.

In the most recent history of Erebor one day marks as insistently significant - the day that brought the end to the ever growing colony of human descendants on its surface. Many lost lives and many lost their home, ridden off of the planet by the catastrophic force in the poor excuse of life-supporting ships.

Many are worried about the younger generations of Ereborians conceived on the exile of the other planets, in different planetary systems. Children, born and bred on the worlds of smaller gravity and with ever so different atmosphere composition, are slightly, although visibly taller than their parents, not to mention the changes in interior structure of their organisms, not obvious at the first glance. When - or rather if - the former people of Erebor ever reclaimed their home, those children would suffer of back pains and general unpleasantness of living on the planet of greater mass, at least at first, but hopefully it would possible for them to adapt soon enough. Human bodies are much more compliant to change than they seem to be and the level of development of modern medicine only encourages seeing their future in bright light.

When humans first arrived to the Erebor, the planet was bare - only stone, blazing hot light in the day and bitter cold in the night, much like famous deserts of Earth, although much more extreme when it came to temperatures. Such conditions were known to exist even in the early days of humanity, as humans were in the process of discovering other planets of our original Solar System, not to mention the growing knowledge about other planetary systems and even galaxies.

The atmosphere of Erebor at the time consisted mostly of carbon dioxide and it took hundred of years of using all the known and discovered in the process technology to initiate the change of all of the planet into the habitat livable for humans. But the planet was hospitable - once it accepted the first plants on its surface, the animals, and eventually also humans, followed to bloom and flourish on the welcoming ground. The planet became a beam of life in the neighbouring space, the intensity of its light and warmth an invite itself for all the astray travellers. With care and all the possible precautions taken by people now living on it, the Erebor became a home, as did many other planets scattered across this and other galaxies. The process of inhabiting other planets after the fall of Old Home ultimately gained the name of the Wave of Second Homes.

The descendants of primarily homogeneous humanity now vary much more, as the people came to discover the possibilities of living on the many different worlds. Flexibility of human organism and opportunities offered by the still developing technology and medicine caused us to seize our chances of occupying all the possible worlds, even if their conditions were far cry from our origins. Skin colour, sexualities or body shapes no longer bear any significance, as it used to in times of Old Home when peoples of Earth had nothing better to do than quarrel with each other over, as the archivists call it, petty matters, rather than focusing on damage their home sustained from their precipitate actions and deeds over the course of years, the time spent in happy obliviousness to the results of unrestrained growth. Now all the Second Homes proudly announce their indifference to the variety of appearances and shapes human descendants were forced to develop into under given circumstances of life.

The star of Ereborian planetary system shone bright and warm on the life flourishing on the surface of the Lonely Planet for many years, while Ereborians strived to create a unique, even if a bit secretive, culture. Writers, poets, philosophers, artists and artisans, craftsmen and scientists - the offspring of wealth the planet offered, the inhabitants in exchange caring for and loving the soil that fed them.

Unlike many other planets, Erebor proved itself to be utterly self-dependant. Soil was rich, be it with metals or precious gems or with nutrients necessary for plants' growth. The economy was stable and growing, with the continuous flow of income from the export of all the riches both earth and people could offer to other planets. Despite the fact that wealth is a natural attractor, the visitors were scarce on the Erebor. The inhabitants were all too secretive and loved to keep their matters to themselves, thus the general knowledge about Ereborians is limited to what they are willing to share or the rumours that may or may not be true. Little is known about their religions, cultural heritage or even the full family tree of monarchs.

Many the political structures were implemented and experimented with, all but one failing to bring the necessary opportunities of further growth. As a result, monarchy was the one deployed and so the Durin royal line thrived, offering the Ereborians their continual loyalty to the welfare of the planet and its inhabitants.

It was until a fateful day one hundred years ago, when a natural disaster caused Ereborians to leave in hurry, fleeing for other systems and other planets. Since then, Ereborians found themselves in exile and as many of them refused to yield under unfamiliar laws, they are the never ending travel, unable to settle down anywhere for long."

 

Bilbo closed the document, frown clear on his face. While it did provide _some_ information, it was entirely too little for his taste. He was hoping to find out some details, but so far all the sources failed him. Curse Ereborians and their reticence!

The Crew told him little about the reasons for their mission. Bilbo didn't really want to ask, as it would come out he knew pretty much nothing and Gandalf was no help - he didn't grace the crew with contact even once since the departure seven days ago, and was entirely unreachable the whole time.

The Net proved itself to be absolutely useless on the matter of information of most recent Ereborian history. It seemed like all the actual facts were efficiently erased. He heard of such circumstances happening before, but it was due to the hazardous effect the spread of the information could have. Could it be that what happened on Erebor would have so much impact on the general public or even the course of the politics it was generally decided to block the flow of information? There were certain ways to do that, most of them painfully slow, incredibly complicated and expensive. There was of course the presence of the Ereborians themselves - what reason could they have not to reveal the truth about their home to the general public? Was the lack of information a result of some threat directed at them, as they were prohibited from speaking of the matter, or were they unable to provide the general public with information due to, say, shame that they felt?

 Bilbo wondered about it for a few days now and so far he was unable to reach any sort of the conclusion. It appeared he will have to admit to his lack of knowledge to his employers after all. Perhaps Balin would be willing to at least point him the right direction, if not provide him with the facts himself. If not, Bofur and Nori always seemed to know much more than they let on. While Nori might insist he knows nothing, Bofur usually gave up in the end. Truth be told, she was his primary source of information here, kind of taking Bilbo under her wings. She was a kind soul, that Bofur.

 

He looked away from the monitor in his cabin and inspected the room. It was small, with bare metal walls, a hatch leading to the corridor of the resting section and a window with thick glass (he was terribly afraid of it in the beginning, as he was sure it couldn't be secure of the breach - it took Bofur, a drill with a diamond bit and an hour of constant drilling the glass to show him that the window was, in fact, secure, as during this hour the drill wasn't able to create even the smallest scratch - when he asked Bofur about the material the glass was made from he was provided with some long, complicated list of the compounds he instantly forgot).

He felt a slight blush creep its way up his face, when he spotted a piece of paper laying on his desk and remembered the day he arrived at the ship. Bofur lead him to the prow of the ship, where most of the company gathered for the departure. He was still quite wobbly from the exhaustion, but did his best to straighten his back. They walked in the navigation chamber and found everyone staring at him, Thorin going as far as raising his eyebrows pointedly.

"So, Master Baggins, to what do we owe the pleasure of stopping the launch last minute?", Thorin requested, sounding rather dismayed. Bilbo drew in a deep breath, startled by his unwelcoming pose.

"I am interested in the position of cryptanalyst, if it's still open," he stated anxiously. Thorin raised his brows even further and finally turned back to the monitors with a sigh.

"It is, Master Baggins. For now I suggest we take our seats. We are already late with the departure and the flight control is starting to get annoyed with us. Apparently we are blocking the air path for the next ship," he said. "Kili, inform the control we are ready for launch."

"The flight controls are always pissy about everything. It's nice to have a valid reason to irk them for once," Bofur winked at him as she lead him to one of the open seats. Bilbo sat down heavily, feeling his heart beat faster once again.

"I made quite a stir, didn't I? Oh gods, this is actually embarrassing," he felt his face redden and he had to fight the urge to flee to some remote corner, just to get out of everyone's sight.

"Don't worry about that, lad. It's good you decided to join us in the end," Dori assured him. Bilbo saw Kili grinning at him from across the room, where he was sitting next to Thorin, and Balin nodding acknowledgingly. It was nice to know they didn't mind, but he still felt immensely embarrassed at the problems he already managed to create. And he didn't even properly join the company!

Before he knew it, they were already on the orbit. The launch was so smooth he only realised that, when he looked outside the window and saw, well, nothing. It took him a few seconds to start noticing the soft glitter of stars in abundance unimaginable to see from the surface of any planet with atmosphere. He gaped at the view in sheer awe.

Suddenly, the belt that was keeping him in the seat clicked - and there he was, floating about in the chamber. "Eh?", he managed to breathe, too surprised to raise alarm.

Balin sighed. "Ori, you were supposed to program the artificial gravity to turn on automatically after we reach the orbit."

"I-I'm so sorry, I thought I did that! I will turn it on now."

"Someone help Master Baggins to his seat," Balin sighed again and shook his head slightly.

Bilbo floated near the captain's seat now, so Thorin held up his hand.

"Master Baggins."

"Capt-," Bilbo was disrupted in midst of replying, when the gravity was finally turned on. The bad thing was, at the time he was just above Thorin. Bilbo heard Thorin's 'Ough', when the air was knocked out of him under Bilbo's weight, and suddenly he found himself straddling Thorin's lap.

Bilbo froze for just a second, before struggling to get off in panic. "So sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Thorin just shook his head and started massaging his left arm that got bruised in the process - Bilbo might have been smaller than Ereborians, but he didn't exactly weight nothing.

"Please just get back to your seat."

Bilbo hurriedly obeyed. As it came out, the buckle wasn't properly fastened, so he made sure to do it right this time.

 

Bilbo shook his head energetically, as if he wanted to shake off all the awkwardness he felt and covered the contract with other papers. He decided that there was no time to waste - he could go and find out something more about the purpose of the mission, as long as Balin had time.

He met Fili on his way. Out of the two brothers, Kili was the one more open and talkative, Fili being more reserved. Somehow, Bilbo for three days hadn't realized, that Fili, Kili and Thorin are in fact related. It wasn't until Kili called Thorin 'uncle', that Bilbo started noticing the family resemblance. He scathingly wondered how it happened that boys didn't take after their uncle in the matter of being horribly sarcastic. Perhaps it didn't run in the family after all.

Bilbo quickly took a liking to the boys. They were airheaded at times, but he suspected it will wear off with time. Pretty much everyone had a soft spot for them - Bofur and Bifur letting them assist in the maintenance and repairs, and Bombur smuggling them some additional food. Dwalin might have smacked them over heads sometimes, but Bilbo knew he was actually being quite delicate with them. Sometimes brothers teamed up with Nori to enroll Ori into mischief, but they usually failed - Ori preferred to keep out of trouble, thank you very much.

Bilbo saw little of Oin, Gloin and Dori. They seemed to be constantly confined to other parts of the ship. He wondered what was their role in the disposal of tasks.

As he wandered through the passages, the thought struck him - how had the company managed to keep their journey secret? It's did not look like they tried at all, as the ship was actually big and quite eye-catching really, also there were thirteen of them! Thirteen Ereborians, on Hobbiton, where they are rarely seen, suddenly appearing and taking off all at once in a giant ship, no doubt prepared for long travelling. He had no doubt someone must have taken account of something so exceptional taking place and, maybe even without realising the consequences, unknowingly informed about it some interested parties. Yet another question has arisen.

Bilbo walked into the navigation room, making sure to check if the O' Great Captain Thorin was inside. He started avoiding Thorin, as the captain seemed to be annoyed at the very sight of Bilbo wandering through the ship. True, Bilbo was a bit problematic at the beginning, but he got better and even helped with some software acting up. He was at loss with how to act around Thorin, who was indirectly rude towards him, despite not rejecting his employment, so Bilbo started acting lowkey rude as well - it was a bit childish, he knew that, but he couldn't help himself.

Balin was standing with Ori by the main screen, apparently instructing him on some matters. Bilbo waited until Balin noticed him and dismissed Ori.

"How can I help you?", Balin asked, stroking his beard.

"I was wondering if you could provide me with some information."

Balin motioned for Bilbo to take a seat at the table in the middle of the room. "What is it that you wish to know?"

Bilbo took a moment to sort his thoughts. "I would like to know more about the reasons behind this journey. I do know that you want to reclaim your home, but I failed to understand and find out how did it happen that you lost it in the first place. The contract was no help either, as well as the Net. Gandalf refused to provide me with any details, because when I first heard about the mission I wasn't interested in joining in."

"Ah," Balin sighed. "I suppose you ought to know, given the circumstances. It isn't our favourite subject, I must say."

Bilbo nodded inquisitively. He could see that Balin was avoiding answering the question. After a moment of silence Balin finally gave in.

"All of our detection systems failed. The army didn't act in time. We were utterly unprepared. So many of us died fleeing, burned in the atmosphere, confined to those godsforsaken flying coffins."

"But what happened?"

Balin looked him straight in the eye with a grim expression. "Smaug happened."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter, because I wanted sort of a cliff hanger. Sorry!  
> Here we have it - some information about this universe. It is scarce for now, but l will reveal little by little as we progress with the story.  
> (I can't shake off the image of Thorin casually picking up the watering can and ending up with water everywhere but the plants....)


End file.
